“Wet for me, baby girl?”
The neon light flashed through the curtained windows. And it provided just enough glow that I could make out Hot Guy’s face as he maneuvered me toward the back of the van. All dark hair and perfect jawline, a smirk that promised to make all my problems disappear—of which I had a list a mile long. One look from him had been nothing short of a siren call to a lonely girl needing to feel wanted for just a few moments. So here I was. In a van. In a bar parking lot, letting his filthy words replay through my head while he grabbed my hips and kissed my throat. Wet for me, baby girl…
“You say that to all the girls?” I asked, then felt him smirk against my skin while he worked the strap of my dress from my shoulder.
“Only the ones I wanna fuck…”
No matter how hot his words had me, I was not actually going to screw him. Nope—although, his lips were extremely persuasive.
My legs bumped the back seat. A moment of doubt crept in as he lowered me to the bench. Though I knew I was probably one in a long line of girls he’d seduced and brought out to this van, I couldn’t quite find the will to care. In my defense, he might have been the hottest guy I’d ever seen, so if I were ever going to have a one-off moment of weakness, he was totally worthy. His hand roamed over my thigh, then beneath my skirt, his pure electric touch tracing me through my underwear. No guy had ever had this effect on me. And I wanted more.
“Damn,” he mumbled against my throat before pulling my panties to the side. “You’re soaked.”
His finger slipped inside me, crooking. The flood of sensation that fired through me took any resolve I had to not bang him and threw it right out the curtained van window.
“I’m not fucking you,” I said in a rush, and I wasn’t sure if that declaration was meant for him or me.
“Not gonna fuck me, huh?” His finger worked deeper.
Arrogant prick. He absolutely thought this was a done deal. Not like I was giving him much reason to think otherwise, but still.
“So, you came out to the van to play a game of ‘get to know you?’ Because I’d say, this is probably a damn good way to get to know someone.” He slipped another finger inside. Pressing. Pushing. Driving me crazy. “Wouldn’t you?” His mouth was on my stomach now, working lower and lower.
I was so screwed. “I…”
“Or did you come out here to ask me my name and favorite color?
I hesitated for a minute, trying to form words. “Name,” I finally choked out, fully aware I probably should have asked that before now. “What’s your name?”
“Bellamy.” He spread my legs, then settled between them, locking eyes with me as he nipped at the inside of my thigh. “What’s yours?”
I sure as hell wasn’t giving him my name, and the first name that sprung to mind was my best friend’s. “Genevieve.” Okay. That was bad...
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” I lied, fighting a moan as his lips worked higher. Okay, I was done talking, or should I say, lying. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah.” His gaze locked with mine, and he removed his fingers. “How good do you taste?” Then slipped them between his lips on a groan. And that one dirty move was enough to absolutely, one hundred percent, seal my fate.
Within seconds, my underwear had been thrown somewhere onto the floorboard and his warm tongue was on me, my hands in his hair, my hips grinding against his face as a wave of bliss crashed over me so hard, I could barely draw in a breath. It wasn’t just an orgasm; it was an awakening, one that had my thighs clamped around his head, my body trembling, and my heart slamming against my ribs.
“So soon, baby girl?” He sat up, smirking as he reached for his belt.
Someone banged the outside of the van. “Hey, fucker!” a guy shouted. “We gotta problem…Psycho bitch is on the hunt. I repeat, little eagle. Psycho bitch is on the hunt. Over.”
Bellamy groaned, still fiddling with his belt. “Tell her to fuck off!”
A girl was looking for him—one that his friend was keeping a lookout for, while he fooled around with another girl in his van? Jesus Christ, I was an idiot. Sitting up, I tugged my skirt back into place, then rummaged through the crumpled papers and music magazines littering the floorboard in search of my underwear.
Another bang sounded over the van door. “Did you hear me?”
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